


The way, way back

by happy_mystic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Monster Reaper, old men talking about their problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 02:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12002736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happy_mystic/pseuds/happy_mystic
Summary: They both know who they used to be. Getting those people back is another story.





	The way, way back

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfic I've published since high school, hoo boy.
> 
> This fic won 3rd place in the fanfiction contest at Geekcon 2017!

Soldier 76 slammed his arms against the wall, softening the impact as he barreled into it.

Behind his visor, his eyes darted around, looking for signs of who had set off the grenade. There - above him on the wall, was a trail of black smoke, slowly coalescing into the shape of a man.

Reaper.

So it was true what the reports had said. He really could turn into smoke, fade into thin air. The perfect assassin.

A bone-white mask, locked in a nightmarish scowl, peered down at him.

“Well, well,” the figure rasped. “The once-great Jack Morrison. Look at you now, lying in the dirt.”

76 met his gaze.

“ Reyes.”

Reaper paused. Then he scoffed, with a sharp turn of his head. “Give the man a prize.”

He lunged, half of him shifting into intangible smoke. Soldier rolled to the side, clinging tightly to his pulse rifle.

“Reyes isn’t here, Jack,” He fired past Soldier’s ear, him having ducked away just before Reaper pulled the trigger. “He’s a pile of ash and rubble.”

Reaper drew closer.

“It’s just me now.”

That wasn’t true. 76 knew that from his own experience. No matter what he told himself-no matter how much he tried to shrug off his past, or what he called himself - he was always going to be Jack Morrison, and he was always going have to live with the consequences of Jack Morrison’s actions - just like Reyes would live with his.

And now that he knew that this soul-eating wraith was the man he once knew-whose attack formations he should have recognized from the beginning, whose fingers he knew were pricked from sewing needles, who had a freckle on the back of his left knee-

In his mind, he couldn’t separate the two if he tried.

“You’re still Gabriel Reyes,” Soldier insisted, firing at Reaper’s feet. Reaper dematerialized again, lifting into the air. 76 kept firing.

“And you need to answer for your crimes.”

Reaper dove at him, turning solid at the last minute and knocking him backwards.

Soldier’s rifle was jolted from his grip as he fell.

With a grunt of frustration, 76 leapt at Reaper, hands bared.

As Reaper turned to smoke again, 76 rolled in the direction he was floating towards.

Just as Reaper started to solidify again, Soldier sprang off his ankles, latching onto Reaper’s chest.

Soldier’s hand landed on the bone-white mask, wrenching it off as he stumbled back.

“And take this damn thing off-”

76 dropped the mask.

Reaper’s skin was ashen, almost bleached- no longer the bright glow from being out in the sun all day. There were wide chunks of it missing, with only gaping holes trailing smoke in their place. Glowing crimson eyes, several of them, dotted along his temples, and his mouth showed far, far too many teeth.

Reaper smiled, at an angle no mouth should ever be, pushing back the skin where his cheeks used to be along his jawline.

“Are you satisfied now?”

Soldier’s hand, still frozen in place, began to shake violently.

Every bit of his body told him to run. He couldn’t be here right now. He couldn’t process this all at once.

“Don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Jack,” Reaper picked up the mask, putting it back in place. “You might not like what you find.”

Before 76 could react, he had turned back into smoke, and billowed out of sight.

The Soldier retrieved his rifle and left the area quickly, vanishing back into the dark alleyways.

Behind him, he could hear the Reaper laughing.

\-----

That had been months ago-almost half a year.

Jack was still kicking himself for running that day.

He’d been completely frozen in place, hands shaking, unable to do anything.

Not as if that was anything new, though. He did get the shakes occasionally-usually when he was agitated. Chalk it up to getting old.

Even without the scars, Jack knew he hadn’t aged well. His hair was white, in the slow process of receding. His joints ached when it rained.

He’d found the one thing the serum injections couldn’t prevent - old age.

\-----

They’d crossed paths again several times, the most recent being in Giza, where they’d run into Ana.

She’d seen the Reaper’s face, too. Had about the same reaction.

At least she’d agreed to come back with him. One more for the team never hurt. Safety in numbers, all that.

(In the back of his mind, Jack was beginning to wonder if any of the dead people he knew had actually bothered to stay dead.)

\----

He spent that Christmas with Ana, in the Necropolis. She’d caught him looking through an old photo album.

“What’s on your mind?” Ana asked from her spot at the window. She’d always felt most comfortable from a vantage point.

“Just...memories.” Jack shrugged. “Holidays, you know. Make a guy nostalgic.”

Ana snorted. “You’ve never been good at hiding things, Jack,” She frowned. “We’re too old to keep secrets anymore. Out with it.”

Jack sighed. He knew that tone. Once a commander, always a commander.

“I just...I always pictured the three of us settling down, retiring out somewhere...”

He looked down at his hands.

“It shouldn’t have turned out this way.”

He pulled out one the photos from its sleeve. It had the three of them - Ana, Jack and Gabe, young and smiling.

He ran a thumb over the image. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s not that simple, and you know it.”

“It’s my fault,” he repeated. “I let him down.”

Ana shook her head gently. “You didn’t set off the explosion. You didn’t turn him into..” she shuddered. “ _That_.”

“But I didn’t listen to him when I should have. I wasn’t there for him, when it counted. I...I just thought once everything went back to normal, I could make it up to him...”

He set the photograph down, putting his head in his hands with a sigh.

“I hurt him, Ana. The one person I never wanted to hurt.”

“Overwatch hurt him, Jack. Isn’t that what we’re trying to do here? Create an Overwatch that cares for others, as well as its own.” She set down her cup of tea. “So a thing like this doesn’t happen again, to anyone.”

Jack looked away, unconvinced.

“You miss him.” she said.

“Of course. Don’t you?”

Ana shook her head. “Not in the way you do. He was-” she gestured, searching for the words. “He was yours, Jack.”

“Don’t know what you mean.”

She gave a half-smirk. “Yes you do.”

She had a point, as usual. He’d never gotten close to anybody else after Switzerland- not even for a single night. Intimacy like that just brought pain.

He’d learned to avoid pain where he could. He’d had enough of it for a lifetime.

“What if..” Ana began, haltingly.

Jack looked up. “What?”

She was silent.

He asked again. “What if what, Ana?”

She drew a breath. “What if we could bring him back? To join us?”

Jack shook his head. “Not gonna happen. You saw him in the field. The man wants us both dead.”

“If that were true, he would have done it himself already.”

“It’s not gonna happen. Hundreds are dead because of him.”

“We still don’t know exactly what happened-”

He set down the album with a thud. “Forget it. It’s a lost cause, Ana.”

“Is it?” she asked. “Do you want to spend the rest of your life wallowing in all the blood on our hands?” Her knuckles whitened on the window sill. “Or are you afraid of trying, only to lose him again?”

Jack got to his feet.

Ana realized what she had said. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed, giving a barely-there shake of his head. “Just forget it.”

Ana nodded.

Jack glanced at his half-empty cup of tea.

He picked it up, turning on his feet to exit the room.

“I’m gonna go back over those files we found.”

\-----

The sky was still dark when Jack set out to leave.

He hadn’t slept for long. As usual. Coffee and anxiety were enough to keep him going.

At least he knew where he was headed. Reaper had last been seen in Russia - a stream of attacks carried out by Talon mercenaries. Russia was a big country-but he had the skills for it.

He slung the pack over his shoulder - he hadn’t packed much - and walked out of the crypt into the sand.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Jack whirled to face the sound.

Ana was standing over him, leaning against a crumbling wall.

He didn’t have the energy to lie to her. She’d see right through him, anyway.

So he said nothing.

Ana sighed. “Just don’t do anything rash, Jack.”

He saluted her, and took off for the hills.

\---

76 had been on foot for several days-he’d hitched a ride on a freighter plane, and spent a few hours trekking through mountains. After a week, he’d finally made it into some semblance of civilization.

This was the village where Reaper had last been sighted - a few miles away from Volskaya Industries.

He had to walk a while before he found any trace of him. Reyes was still a professional - he knew how to cover his tracks.

Soldier finally came to a small site, on the edge of town, littered with shotgun shells.

He bent down to pick one up. He’d never managed to get a good look at Reaper’s guns when they fought, so he couldn’t be sure, but it looked like they could match the make.

Soldier paused, lifting his head to sniff the air.

Smoke.

Before he could turn his head, something that was definitely _not_ smoke barreled into him.

Soldier grabbed hold of his rifle, rolling behind a crate, away from the onslaught of buckshot pouring from Reaper’s guns.

Once the stream ended, he leapt out of cover, preparing to fire in retaliation.

But Reaper was quicker. He fired again, materializing new guns out of his smoke. One bullet managed to graze Soldier’s knee mid-jump.

He toppled to the ground, landing face-first.

Reaper stepped forward.

“So predictable,” he rasped. “All these years, and you couldn’t even think to change up your tactics.” He leaned over menacingly, close enough for Soldier to feel breath on his skin.

“Stubborn old man.”

Soldier’s hand shot up, latching onto his shoulder.

Before Reaper had the chance to react, 76 sprang up and pulled him into a headlock.

He grabbed onto Reaper’s arm, wrenching the arm from its socket. Reaper let out a low groan.

76 threw him to the ground, pressing his pulsar against his head.

“You never could resist taking the time to gloat.” Soldier smirked under the mask.

“Guess we’re both stubborn old men.”

Reaper stayed where he was. So did 76.

“Well?” Reaper broke the silence. “Finish the job already. Or did you want my death to be a long and painful one?”

76 shook his head. “I didn’t come here to fight.”

“What did you come for, then?”

Soldier didn’t answer.

Finally he spoke up.

“Where are you staying? I’ll take you back there.”

“A truce?” 76 could practically hear Reaper sneering. “You’re kidding, right?”

“People will have heard those shots.” Soldier lowered his gun. “The longer we stay out here, the longer we’re exposed.”

Reaper sighed.

“You’ll just follow me if I say no, won’t you.”

76 shrugged. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the past few days?”

After a moment, Reaper’s body began to fade, traveling down the nearest alleyway, leaving a trail of smoke in his wake.

\-----

Jack glanced around the tiny shack he’d been lead to, while he busied himself with bandaging his knee.

There was a mattress, a laptop, a shortwave radio, some first aid supplies, and a few scattered newspapers - and that was about it.

If nothing else, it was better than where he and Ana were staying. At least this place had indoor plumbing.

“So this is home, huh.”

“Can I offer you something to drink?” Reaper snarled.

He reached behind his head, taking in a deep breath.

“Do-” Jack started. “Do you need me to -”

“I got it,” he snapped. He gave a sharp tug on the opposite shoulder, popping it back into place with a strangled grunt. He turned his back, flexing it gingerly, before turning to face his guest.

“Well?” Gabe asked.

“Well, what?”

“You wanted to talk, didn’t you?” he growled. “So, talk.”

There was silence in the room. Where did he even start?

“Is Amari with you?” Gabe asked, finally.

Jack shook his head. “Just you and me.”

“You went in alone? Into the den of the very monster you created?” Jack could hear the scorn in his voice. “Are you really that stupid? Or are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Jack’s leather gloves creaked as he clenched his fists.

“I didn’t do this to you, Gabe.”

“Didn’t you?” His voice was so soft the voice modulator barely picked it up.

“You left me, Jack. I was alone for hours before they got to me.” Gabe turned away.

“Your precious Overwatch left me to die there.”

Jack’s lip twitched under the mask.

“And it wasn’t just me. They did the same thing to Amari.” His hands clenched at his sides. “I actually thought she’d understand. I actually fucking _thought_.”

“She’s trying to fix things. We both are.” He took a step forward.

“We’re trying to make something stable.”

Gabe shook his head. “Overwatch was broken long before it fell, Jack. You’d’ve known that, if you could have managed to pull your head out of your ass for one second.”

Jack looked down at the floor. “I never saw the corruption when I should have -”

“Because I was the one covering it up!” At that, Gabe finally turned to face him. “All those questionable things I did-they got _results_ , Jack. I dealt with them so you wouldn’t have to! You were so worried about it being perfect, you looked past any part of it that wasn’t!”

His hands fell to his sides.

“Including me.”

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but to his horror, he realized that Gabe was right.

If he had...

Well, maybe they wouldn’t be here now.

Gabe let his gaze drop to the floor. “Do you really think this Overwatch will be any different?”

Jack felt his shoulders sag.

“I don’t know.”

He leaned against the table. There was a newspaper on it with a photo of a ruined Numbani airport.

“But it’s better than doing nothing.”

Gabe shook his head.

“Idiot.”

He slowly peeled off the mask. Jack willed himself not to flinch this time.

Gabe shook his head, not bothering to take off the hood itself, instead letting it fall to his shoulders. His hair was longer, matted and unkempt.

He turned to look up at Jack. His eyes showed no sign of malevolence this time -he just looked tired.

Jack glanced over the red eyes and smoke seeping from his mouth.

“That’s all from the nanomachines?”

“Sure seems that way.”

Now that the modulator was gone, Gabe’s voice sounded the same as it had before the explosion. Jack felt his heart give a painful surge at that.

Gabe cocked an eyebrow, gesturing towards him. “I showed you mine, you show me yours.”

Jack rolled his eyes. But he reached up to the unlocking mechanism all the same. It came loose with a hiss, and he gently pried it off.

Gabe glanced him over. “Damn. You got _old_.”

Jack snorted. “You’re not exactly fresh as a daisy yourself.”

Gabe shrugged. “Understatement.”

He shrugged the cloak off, revealing a tank and black pants beneath. At least that hadn’t changed.

Gabe sat himself down on the mattress. Jack, unsure of his boundaries, stayed where he was.

He glanced at one of the scratches Gabe had sustained during their fight. Black smoke drifted along them-no, it seemed to be _crawling_ , almost fizzing.

“Your skin-”

“It’s regrowing,” Gabe interjected. “And dying, and regrowing again,” He shrugged.“Just a part of me being me.”

Jack leaned in for a closer look. It reminded him of fat sizzling on a grill.

“Does it hurt?”

Gabe’s shoulders tensed. Jack could see his teeth grit through the holes in his cheek.

“Some days more than others.”

“Sounds rough.”

“Believe me, this is on a good day.” His lips lifted mirthlessly. “You should see me when I haven’t eaten in a while.”

Jack suppressed a shudder. He wasn’t going to ask about that.

Gabe stared at his hands.

“Why’d you come here, Jack?” he asked again. “Try to get me to turn back? Convince me to see the light, all that shit?”

Jack shook his head. That was what he had told himself, but, now that he was here, he realized.

He knew that wasn’t the real reason why he came.

“I guess I...just wanted to know if...” he gestured aimlessly. “If it was still you.”

Gabe raised an eyebrow. “Well? Is it?”

Jack considered it.

“More or less.” His expression softened. “The important stuff is still there.”

For a moment, Gabe said nothing.

Eventually he got up, moving towards him.

“You sap,” he muttered. “Soft old fool.”

He leaned forward, burying his head in the crook of Jack’s neck.

Jack’s hands began to shake again. Something inside him was reeling, with grief and joy all at once.

He managed to still them enough to wrap around Gabe, clinging tightly.

“Hey, listen,” Jack started, hesitantly. “I know it’s probably too late to change anything, but, for what it’s worth...I’m sorry. For pushing you away. For not listening when I should have. And-” Jack gestured towards him “For the rest of it. If I had known you were still out there....”

He shook his head. “I never wanted this for you, any of it, ever.”

“Yeah,” Gabe sneered. “It is too late.”

Jack winced.

“But... thanks for saying it anyway.” he whispered.

Jack buried his face in the crook of Gabe’s neck. At least that was something.

He bit back the lump in his throat.

“I missed you so much.” Jack grasped at the fabric of Gabe’s shirt, breathing deeply.

He felt Gabe shift underneath him. “I probably, uh, don’t smell the same anymore.”

Jack shook his head. “Sure you do.”

He wasn’t lying - not entirely. Underneath the smell of smoke and meat and leather, if he concentrated, there was still a faint trace of the spice and musk that was so clearly _him_. He inhaled again and again, searching for that scent.

“Kind of cold to the touch, too.”

Jack smirked mirthlessly. “I grew up with Indiana winters. I can handle a bit of cold.”

“Got some, uh, sharp edges-”

“ _Enough_.” Jack interrupted him, lifting back up to face him. “I don’t care about extra eyes, extra teeth -you could have an extra dick, I don’t care-” He choked on a strained laugh at that. “Whatever it is, Gabe, _I will take it_.”

He reached out a hand to Gabe’s face, trying to ignore the feel of bone against his fingers.

“Because it’s you. You’re here. Alive, talking to me.”

The corner of Gabe’s remaining lip twitched.

Jack ran a hand down Gabe’s arm. The black clouds were still buzzing with activity against his fingers.

He gave a soft huff of laughter. “Kind of tickles.”

He used the arm to pull himself in closer again.

Gabe’s arms remained at his sides. But he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Jack’s.

He allowed himself to run his fingers through Gabe’s hair. It was still soft, still messy from hat-hair - or hood-hair, rather.

“Still mad at you,” Gabe murmured.

Jack smiled. “Sure.”

They stood there, listening to each other breathe.

Whether Jack was savoring the moment, or waiting for Gabe to make the first move; he himself wasn’t sure.

Gabe looked up, causing Jack’s hand to fall from hair to cheek.

He parted his lips, but shut them tightly with huff and small shake of his head.

He decided to press them against Jack’s instead.

\-----

It was startling just how easily they fell back into their old rhythm. If it hadn’t been for the smell of smoke and the creak of his own joints, this could have taken place decades ago.

Well...not quite. Gabe’s hands were rougher, his movements sharper, as if releasing all the anger and hurt that he couldn’t put into words.

Jack couldn’t say he blamed him.

\----

_“I’m not saying you’re doing anything wrong,” Jack told him. “It’s just that your reports just...leave something to be desired.”_

_Gabe shrugged. “You’re a busy man. No need to waste time you don’t have.”_

_Jack sighed. “Are you ever going to tell me what it is you’re doing down there?”_

_“Are you ever going to trust me enough to do the job you gave me?”_

_“I need to know what_ everyone _is doing, Gabe. That’s my job.”_

_Gabe rolled his eyes. “Is that why you’re telling me in your quarters, instead of an office?”_

_“This is just about the only place that you_ do _tell me anything!”_

_Gabe’s eyes flared._

_Jack stepped back. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-”_

_“Save it, Jack.” He turned on his heel to leave._

_“Wait,” he said gently. Gabe, reluctantly, did._

_Jack let his hands fall to his sides._

_“Gabe, there’s nobody in the world that I trust more than you. You know that, don’t you?”_

_Jack rubbed at his temples. “I’m sorry I snapped. I’m just - worried.”_

_Gabe turned his head toward him.“I thought the reason you kept me around was so you wouldn’t have to.”_

_Jack sighed. “I’m strike commander; it’s my job to worry.” He turned to face Gabe. “And you know that’s not the only reason I keep you around.”_

_‘Right,” he walked forward until his forehead was touching Jack’s._

_“It’s my amazing cheekbones, right?”_

_Jack laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time Gabe had made him laugh like that._

_He looked up, smiling, and pulled him in for a kiss._

_“_ _What about the reports?” Gabe asked when he pulled away for air._

_“We can worry about that later,” Jack put his arms around him, still kissing him. “They’ll be there in the morning, won’t they?”_

_Gabe shrugged. “Right, as usual. That’s why you’re the one in charge.”_

_He let Jack pull them both onto the bed. Jack pillowed himself on top of the other man._

_“We both need sleep.”_

_He felt Gabe’s grin against his cheek. “Actually, I was..thinking about something other than sleep.”_

_Jack laughed. “Later, okay? We’ve got time.”_

_“Yeah, you’re right.” He poked him in the ribs. “But you owe me.”_

_“Sure.” Jack could already feel himself starting to drift from exposure to Gabe’s body heat._

\---

The first rays of sun stirred Jack from sleep.

He’d had dreams like this, born out of his memories. It was so similar to the mornings when he’d wake up to light filling the room, with the smell of clean linen beneath him, and Gabe’s scent beside him-but it was different enough to hurt in its own way.

Gabe was dozing beside him. Apparently he was still human enough to need sleep.

Jack turned towards him, but Gabe slept on, showing no signs of waking up. He slept like a log, as always.

It was almost laughable - the living specter of death, conked out against a pillow.

Jack reached out, running a finger over Gabe’s cheek-the part that still had skin on it.

Change didn’t come easy for people like them.

Some things just didn’t go away.

It took ages before Jack could pry himself out of bed and leave. He lay there for as long as he could.

There was no point in asking him to come with. Jack already knew what his answer would be.

He tried very hard not to think about the next time they would meet.

\---

As he walked the streets, early morning sun against his back, Jack was surprised to find that he was feeling better than he had in a long time. More optimistic, anyway. Lighter.

There was no getting back what had been lost. They weren’t going to ever be what they were again.

But even if Gabe wasn’t _his_ anymore...

He was still Gabe.

Maybe that was enough.


End file.
